Monday, August 12, 2019


Would you believe it  -- another drippy day -- fogged over, clammy, promising more rain.

And another "cats are not eating" day. Why? (Only little Dark Blue chomps away...)

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And the more predictable -- another day of garden cleaning, even though I'm hardly making a dent these days. Forget the lilies -- rain brings with it weeds. Everywhere.

And another day of waiting for two hours while Air France stumbles through a phone conversation with me. (My advice: much as I otherwise do really like Air France -- I wouldn't be on their frequent flyer program if I didn't --  it's not a good choice for families with infants, especially if you're a person who likes to plan ahead and hold on to whatever seats you booked for yourself, or if you're weird enough to want to sit next to your spouse while holding infant in arms. They reserve the right to separate you and in general, mess with your booked, paid-for seat and they will do so, without consulting, without notice.)

Small stuff, you say. And you'd be right -- it is small stuff. How beautiful is the life that is full of the inconsequential frets!

Breakfast? No frets there!

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My flowers continue to show off, albeit in somewhat different, more messy configurations.

(the Big Bed)

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(looking toward the farmhouse...)

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(the lily field...)

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It's my "you call this lunch??" lunch.  I ran out of time. For days like this, I reach for my favorite "no B.S." protein bar: blend dates, cashews, almonds, egg whites and blueberries and you get something that goes oh so well with a cup of frothy coffee! "no B.S." is their chosen catchline.

Do note, too, the table cloth. It's a fill-in for when the big one is in the wash, but I do quite like it anyway -- my extraordinary Polish architect friend, Karolina, gave it to me -- it's a Polish artist's rendition of a stack of hay. Do you see the mouse peeking through (in other corners, you may find a lady bug, or a beetle)?

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As the rain starts its rhythmic play on the farmhouse roof, I set out to pick up Snowdrop.

("What is she doing?" -- you may ask. "I don't know. Being silly." -- I will answer.)

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We dig into a Lego building project. Snowdrop loves these so much, that I quit paying attention to minimum age. This one was 6+. Fine, she can manage 6+! There is a downside though: they are complicated structures with hundreds of tiny pieces, which means it takes FOREVER to complete it. We put it aside after finishing just one packet of lego pieces (out of five). To be continued!

(Pretend game that involves eating cheddar bunnies and looking for those little creatures that are sprinkled around the Polish table cloth...)

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Evening. Ed is sitting on stump, watching the cats. He swears he saw Dance nibble at food. We were to have storms. We did not have storms. Windows are open, crickets chirp. Or, are those frogs? Either way, it's all good.